Thursday, August 02, 2007

That's what you're supposed to say when someone you love dies, right? Sure, you get a grace period, an undetermined number of days to mourn, but after that you pick yourself up by the bootstraps and get on with your life. Life is for the living and all that. But how many days do you get to wallow in your own self pity because yet another person who was close to you goes toes up?

I may sound flippant about the whole ordeal, but this is me being serious. I've had too many people die on me in the past few years - my Mom, two grandfathers and now my maternal grandmother - and I'm tired. I'm so very tired. My protective armor comes out whenever the subject of death comes up, shielding me from the pain, pushing it back so I can see the pain waving to me but far enough away so it can't touch me. I was like this after Mom died. I gave myself, what, a week? Two? And then I went on with business as usual. Except it was business unusual. But to see me you never would have known, because I was fine.

Fine.

But there seems to be a chink in my armor. Since my Gram passed every morning has been a battle to get out of bed, and then the day lingers before me with its promise of sunshine but all I see is another opportunity for someone to leave me. I get jumpy when Chicky gets too close to our pool, I get anxious when Mr. C comes home later than expected. You'd never know it by looking at my face because I'm really good at hiding it, but it's there.

I'm having a bad week, as you can tell. Having to come off the extreme frenetic high of Blogher and straight to a loved one's death bed is not an easy transition and it seems to have thrown me all out of whack. I might feel stronger next week after the service is over and all the receiving lines and sermons and luncheons are over, but today I'm fragile.

I told myself at Blogher that I was going to start getting real with my blog posts (please save your Real World jokes for a later date) as a way of therapy. So here goes nothin'... Hi, I'm Mrs. Chicky and I have a problem with avoidance. I come from a long line of avoiders, most of whom are dead now, and it's time to break that cycle. There's a little piece of me playing with blue Play-Doh at my feet and she doesn't deserve to live like this. Pretending she's a butterfly or a monkey or a purple fairy - that's fine. Pretending that life is fine even when it's not? Not fine. As a matter of fact, I'd like to work on removing that word from her vocabulary.

Next week will be better. I hope. As a kind woman just said to me in an email (and I really hope she doesn't mind me quoting her), "I don't like the netherworld between death and funeral. There's something about having the ceremony that puts the stamp on death that I actually find very helpful in that it allows me to start grieving." I concur. Next week I should be fine.

67 comments:

I wish there was something I could do for you. Meeting someone face to face makes such a difference. Beforehand, I could feel for you through your words, but now I can picture your face behind the computer screen and I don't like that you are hurting and there's nothing to be done to ease it. But anything that I can do, I'd be willing. A drunken BlogHer photo emailed to you daily, maybe? Not much, but it might make you smile.

It's horrible, the feeling you describe. Don't bother pretending - nobody expects you to, and there is no wrong way to grieve. That panic will fade, the hopelessness lasts a bit longer, and well, the sadness will always be there, but that's because you lost people that you LOVED so much.

Oh, I am so sorry for you. You have had a lot thrown your way in the past few years. I do hope you will use this space as a sort of therapy. Allow yourself to feel and to express. We are here and will not allow you to avoid us. ;)

Sending you brackets. Heaps and heaps and loads of them. So many brackets that, in six months time, you'll still be finding them in the sofa cushions and in the pockets of jeans you haven't worn in a really long time.

Are you trying to be "fine" for yourself or for other people? Because if it's for other people, fuck 'em. You are entitled to fall apart, cry, holler, scream at the fates, whatever you need to do to get thru this bad time. And you need to take however long you need to take. There's no set period for grieving. It waxes and wanes and the people who care about you will understand that.

Can I hold your hand because I'm a major avoider and we love company. I (we) will always be here to support and give the virtual hugs that I so wish could be real. Here's to make that pledge of reality (((hugs))).

Oh, honey, it's all catching up to you now, isn't it? Because you're giht - it can't be avoided forever. It took me years to even talk about my mom, years for it to become less immediate, so I could handle it. With my grandma, I kept poking at it in little bits whenever I had a moment available, until it became a bit numb, and then I could handle it. But in both cases, writing it out, whether you post it or not, really helped me. I hope it gives you some outlet, too. I hope that talking to Chicky about her helps, that sharing her stories helps, that whatever you can find to help is good for you. And meanwhile, we are holding you in the softest place of our hearts. Still more hugs to you, my dear, and you know I don't minding cuddling you. ;^)

Grief has no time table. Don't allow anyone to tell you it does. I still miss my mom after 10 years. I will grieve the loss of the son forever. Time helps, but the hole in your life from that lost may never be totally gone. It's OK feel whatever you feel.

Hi - I haven't commented on your blog before, I found you by way of Jenny's post last week, and I'm so sorry to meet you while you're grieving. I understand what you are dealing with as I've lost quite a few close family members myself, and have been in a similar situation. I hope that the "in-between" time passes quickly and that you can soon grieve and heal at your own pace without having to pretend to be fine. I'll be keeping you in my prayers...

You know, for some people, avoidance is just a coping mechanism. I tend to do that when a thing is too new and raw for me to deal with. Then later, when I the emotional wound is not so fresh, I can face it and work through it. I don't think that's necessarily wrong.

I'm truly sorry that you've had so much thrown at you lately. You've every reason to feel out of sorts. And if you can't use a blog for therapy, then what the hell good is it????

On Becoming More Vulnerable...Look at all the support you have! Amazing. It's like finally finding a group of girls who are willing to love you for who you are.

On a personal note, I've always enjoyed your site. I think the first post I read was a few month back when your daughter and you were sitting at the table and she refused to talk with you until you got up and made yourself coffee... I was hooked.

But this more vulnerable you is so nice to read. I totally think I get you and connect. Keep it up, I enjoy reading.

what i hate the most is that i think i know very well how you're feeling, because it's how i felt when dad died and when michael died and i think maybe that it's close enough that i know mostly what you're going through. but because of that, i'm pretty sure that there is not a damn thing i can do to really help you. that's what i hate the most.

but i'm here, reading, listening, sending love. it's all i can do for you, but i hope it does some good.

My grandfather passed away and was burried on Dec 21 of last year. I have a 7 year old. My cousin has a 6 year old and a 10 year old. Christmas had to happen for the kids. We made Reindeer Dust, to lead and feed the reindeer once they arrived. We shopped. We wrapped. We opened gifts. But none of our adult hearts were in it. Usually after the funeral services, everyone goes their own way and greives in their own way... none of us got the chance to do that and 7 months later we're all still trying to cope with it. DO NOT DO THAT TO YOURSELF. You don't have to be fine for yourself or anyone else. Grieve for the person you loved when the need comes to you. Otherwise, you may have to deal with bottled up grief for a long time to come... its not... healthy.

I have *that* knot in my stomach, the knot that replaces the words I'd like to say, but can't seem to string together in any kind of way that could possible express the sadness I feel for you. I'm so very sorry.

I'm so fine with you not being fine that I'm even more fine that you can admit to not being fine and I hope you're fine with being honest about when you're not fine because I love you, whether you're fine or not.

Second, did you read my Hump Day post this week? About how long we get?

I think at some point there is this crossover moment. I think you hit it.

You get as long as you want. You don't have to pretend. We shouldn't need you to.

IMHO? Grief is lifelong.

At some point, you remember more of the joy and gain, and less of the loss and pain, but oh those moments when you *need* that person in some way and you feel that loss again? it's keen, it's always. For those we loved and were close.

And this? Is okay. As long as it doesn't tether us too much from the living and happy sides of things.

Big (hugs). Get real. or prevaricate, as you need. And time is all yours, as long as you want.

Not to get all religious on you, but one of the greatest things about Judaism is that they allow long term mourning. Not only allow it, encourage it. First for the days of sitting shiva, then for the 30 days past that where you still actively mourn, then for the full year the death where you work through every personal anniversary. By the time the year is passed, mourning dissapates and life does go on more normally. But being allowed a full year instead of a few days or a few weeks is a marvelous gift, I think.

You're mourning. Not just your gram, but all the other deaths you've had to deal with. The compilation of mourning one after another is kicking your butt to the wall. It should. You shouldn't be fine. You should be whatever you feel, sad, angry, or just plain exhausted by all the trauma. It's OK to feel whatever you feel, and if fine comes in too, than that's OK as well.

But you don't have to pretend. Not with us, anyhow. Take as long as you want to work through your grief.

I just found your blog today and I'm trilled I did. I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm with you on the, I'm fines. I've lost two grandparents in the past year and another one is...well hanging on. I guess the thing about humans is that we keep going even when we just want to hide our heads and give up. It does get easier, but you deserve to grieve...for as long as it takes. Hugs, Phoenix.

I know exactly how you feel especially right now since like you I came from the high of BlogHer to the low of burying a family member. My body is tired, my heart feels heavy, and life feels difficult. I'm also worrying that someone else dear to me will die and nightmares are a nightly occurrence. I know it will pass but for now I'm letting myself wallow in it because my mind and body need it before I can move on. Grieving sucks, doesn't it?

Fine. Lovely word, means so much. Really after we lose a loved one, are we ever fine? I know I am not. It will be three years in Sept that my father passed away. I still feel like I haven't dealt with it yet. I say I am fine but I am anything but.

My thoughts are with you. I share your pain. I wish to God I could do something to take even a small sliver of it away.

When my Grandmother was murdered 14 years ago I was not fine, I did not look fine, and I did not act fine. After a few weeks I finally was able to put my finger on my greatest need-peace. I desperatly need some peace-a break from the fear and pain. When those bad feelings started swelling up, threatening to wash over me-slamming me back to the ground-I closed my eyes and whipered "please God, peace, please peace..."

It took 13 years for them to find her killer. When they did it brought back feelings I had tried so hard to forget. I don't remember how I responded to people's condolences when she died, but 13 years later I did not put up with "At least now you have some closure." Closure is a stupid word.

I hope that you can find what it is that you need to begin to feel better. Peace helped me.

Winston Churchill said that IF YOU ARE GOING THROUGH HELL...KEEP GOING.I'm sorry that you've been hit hard the last few years, it really sucks. Write about it, do what you are doing. It gets better...it just takes TIME (which is of no comfort to you, I know). I had a couple of years like that, dad died, divorce, mom died....I felt exactly like you do right now. Hang in there because you have peeps that want to hear.Stalking you always,MichelleWhitetrashmom.com

Hang in there Mrs. C. I lost both paternal grandparents (whom I was very clsoe to) and my Mom all in about 6 months. It is hard, and there's not much more you can do then let yourself feel. It really sucks some days, but then the little Miss C smile sup at you and you know that it's all worth it (I have three little Mr.'s that do the trick for me!

I just read this post (as I am hugely addicted to your blog and am now almost done reading the archives). I am totally with you- my niece was killed in a car accident six years ago, and I still fear car accidents more than anything. Hugs. :)